Okay, so I might have a few playboy like tendencies. That tends to happen when you fall in love and don't end up with the happily ever after of your dreams. I built a wall around my heart and decided to have a little fun instead.
Now, I've found myself falling for the ice queen herself. Did I mention that she's also my editor-in-chief? She's not interested in me or being an us, but when our best friends start dating, we can no longer escape our insecurities or the fire burning between us.
Wynter Carlisle
I've got the perfect job, an apartment in NYC's elite 425 Madison high rise and life as I know is great. If there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's that people are fickle and love isn't always permanent. I'm the only one I can always count on, well except for my best friend Addison.
I had a plan to protect my heart. That was, until Weston -
the cocky columnist who works for me...in more ways than one.
After all, 425 Madison is the perfect place to fall in love!
My thoughts:
Excerpt
Copyright @ J Marie 2020
She’s hiding something underneath that facade of stone and I
have a plan to figure out exactly what it is. I want to know what makes her
tick. What consumes her? What gets under her skin? What’s her flaw? Other than
my flirting and charm, that is.
It’s starting to get to her. I can tell by every flinch or
slip of her mask and I’m enticed to do it more. I want it to slip. I don’t want
to play charades; I want her to show me the real her - The face behind the
mask.
Come out and play,
Wynter. A grin crosses my lips.
“Croix, my office now.” Her siren voice calls to me like a
sailor doomed to meet his fate at the rocky cliffs. Wynter never calls me by my
first name, but it’s not unusual. The longer she keeps up this detached front,
the less she has to pretend.
My little arctic queen is angry and I wonder what’s put her
over the edge this time. A flush covers her cheeks as her eyes find mine. I bet
it's the same blush she gets during sex.
Her pen angrily slips between her fingers as she twists it
over and over.
“You rang?” I answer with a smirk. She shakes her head,
looking down at what I assume is my piece for the magazine. “You really expect
me to believe that ‘dating apps are the new rage for fans of hookups’?”
“Hey, don’t knock Match Me until you try it. Maybe it’d
loosen you up a little, Ice Queen.” I smile another one of my dazzling,
charming smiles and she scoffs pushing away my piece.
“I don’t need a dating app to help me hook up with men, I do
just fine on my own.”
I snicker, mumbling under my breath. “You probably wouldn’t
know a proper man even if he pleasured you six ways to Sunday.”
“What was that?”
“Oh, nothing. Guess some of us in the dating world just
aren’t as lucky as you, your royal highness.” Sarcasm falls from my lips.
“Please stop calling me that, I am your boss.”
I fake salute her; a fat smile still planted across my
face.
Leaning against the wall, I watch her eyes follow my
silhouette. Do I detect a hint of approval? I’m wearing a white button-down,
the top popped open exposing a slight peep show of my tattoos. Her eyes trail
down my body and she licks her lips before catching herself. “Anything else you needed or was that all?”
She bites the cap of her pen and a slight crease forms on
her forehead, as it often does when she’s lost in concentration or thought -
another one of the many things I find intriguing about this woman.
“If this is the best you have, I guess I’ll post it. I am
curious though… is this really all you’ve got swimming around in your brain? I
find it hard to believe that a Yale graduate has nothing better to write about
than hookups. It’d be a shame to find someone better versed in the world for
that new senior columnist position opening up soon.”
J Marie is a hopeless romantic with a serious Chipotle
addiction. When she isn’t searching for
her next swoon-worthy book boyfriend, she’s writing him. Although she has West
Virginia roots, she currently resides in Ohio with her husband and rescue dog,
Sir Cooper Ryder.
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